


Meet Me in the Woods Tonight

by afternoonish



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Angels, Creatures, Cryptids, Demons, Goatman - Freeform, M/M, Monsters, Most of these ships are a maybe!!, Mothman, Owlman - Freeform, POV Multiple, Phoenix - Freeform, The ships r so basic now but oops, They can change!!!!!, Werewolves, Witch - Freeform, Witchcraft, Worldbuilding, cryptid AU, dancing queen by ABBA, hellhound, monster au, multiple perspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afternoonish/pseuds/afternoonish
Summary: In the middle of the forest, a group of mothmen that left their old flock in West Virginia decide to settle in an abandoned cluster of houses, and their leader dubs them "Red Team" for no real reason.Not far away, in another part of the same forest, a ragtag pack of werewolves notice strange scents, tracks, and sounds in their territory.And, over the river that cuts through that forest, an imp on the Old Alton Bridge couldn't give two shits about any of that, and is just waiting for more people to scare.
Relationships: Agent Carolina/Kaikaina Grif | Sister, Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Frank "Doc" Dufresne & Emily Grey, Franklin Delano Donut & Dick Simmons, Franklin Delano Donut/Frank "Doc" DuFresne, Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington, Michael J. Caboose/Leonard L. Church
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Team explores the abandoned boy scout camp that Sarge has decided will be their home.

Sarge's military boots thumped on the beaten earth as he proudly made his way into the clearing. "Well, men! I believe we've found our place!" The older man continued to walk away, still talking as though he was giving some sort of grand speech to the run-down property in front of the three mothmen.

Behind him, Simmons and Donut exchanged a look of uncertainty, and then the blonde slowly, cautiously walked forward, a look of discomfort on his face. For once, Simmons could relate perfectly to the other mothman, still keeping his feet rooted where they were.

The spot in particular that their "leader" had chosen as their new residence was... mediocre, at best. The large clearing looked as though once it had been used well, but now had fallen to disrepair. The buildings and everything still stood, but the overgrowth and peeling, faded paint they all bore helped drive home the unfriendly look the place now wore. There was a dusty smell that wafted from the entrances of every hovel, the same smell you might encounter when walking into an old museum. The three largest houses, sitting in a "U" formation in the back of the clearing, seemed the least destroyed, but their second stories helped them appear like withered, towering giants. There were some other structures placed in an organized formation around the wide space, most of them things you'd expect to see in such a place. Simmons noticed what appeared to be a small fenced-off garden, and next to it a one-story house that greenery had claimed over time. Among other things, there were also small log cabins, two of which were still relatively intact while the rest had given way to time, as well as random piles of wood and rock, multiple small platforms in a formation behind the three main houses, and most surprisingly of all, what appeared to be the remains of an obstacle course.

No matter what state all of these things were in, they all seemed to give off the same eerie vibe, like they were waiting for the right moment to spring to life and strike, but for now remained frozen in time.

Simmons felt he should know better than to set foot in the place, but Sarge called his name up ahead, and reluctantly, the mothman began to walk over to him. His antennae were suddenly hurting, and he realized he'd subconsciously been keeping them perked to sense danger, though they'd only confirmed that Sarge, Donut, and him were the only three things here. This managed to settle his nerves a bit, and with a deep breath, he started towards the U-shaped trio of houses up ahead, letting his antennae relax again.

As he neared them, he noticed Sarge standing proudly on a large platform of wood, looking out over the camp. Sarge was a strange case, swearing he'd served in the military for many years, even though that would be impossible without having to reveal he's not human. Nobody had been able to figure that out, nor had they ever figured out his real name. His hair was almost completely silver, although it was probably half-stress, half-dyed, and not a result of age. There was a silvery scar that ran from the right side of his nose, over his nose bridge, and up to above his left eyebrow. His wings and tufted antennae were a dark red- more vibrant than Simmons' wings, but still dark enough to look less noticeable at night. Unlike Donut, who hadn't exactly won the genetic lottery with his feather colors.

The moth in question was currently sitting on the edge of the platform, looking at a flower with interest. Aside from the bottom section of his hair being dyed pink, his wings and antennae were also a pale pink that he insisted was just "lightish red". Some nights, his wings still blended in okay enough, but if the moon was full enough or bright enough, or it was a clearer night, they practically glowed. It had made travelling from the original flock in West Virginia slightly more challenging sometimes, but he was still useful to have for any errands during the day, especially at sunset when the clouds turned pink.

Simmons walked up to Sarge and saluted him dutifully. Sarge nodded with an approving grin, then noticed Donut and loudly barked, "Donut! Stand beside Simmons! Get off my announcement stage!" He gestured to the slightly elevated wooden platform again. With a yelp of surprise, Donut scampered over and stood beside Simmons. Sarge nodded, then continued.

"Good. Now, I have done a thorough investigation of these quarters, and have decided that they are perfect for us to use as our new barracks." The mothman paced back and forth along the platform. "They are in perfect condition for us to use, and are far away from any kind of human activity."

Simmons shuffled his wings and raised a clawed hand slightly. "Uh, sir, I think I have to disagree with you there. These buildings look pretty dilapidated, and they can't possibly still be structurally sound enough for-"

"Simmons! What did I tell you about interrupting your commander?"

"Sorry, sir." He drooped down again.

"And stop speaking nonsense! Houses can't make sounds on their own, and even if they could, they'd clearly be telling us to move in right away!"

He didn't even try to point out all the stupidity on that one, and just sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Now, I'm glad to see we are all in agreement that this is the perfect spot for Red Team to move in. We'll have to do a bit of work, but I believe that you and Donut will figure out a way to turn this place into the greatest base a Red could ask for!"

Donut perked up. "Oh, this'll be great! I wish I'd brought my interior design magazines with me, but I'm sure I remember enough without them to get this place looking nice and cozy!"

"Wait- Red Team?" Simmons paused. "Why are we calling ourselves 'Red Team?'"

"Because red is the most dignified color of all, and our wings all just happen to be a shade of red! Except for Princess Bubblegum, over there, but we're still the majority!"

"Hey! It's lightish red, it counts!" Donut squawked from where he'd already taken off to inspect the doorway of the rightmost house. 

Neither of them responded- they'd had this debate so many times during the flight from the old flock that Sarge and Simmons had both managed to learn that most times, it was not a fight worth having. Instead, Sarge ignored Donut and just turned back to Simmons.

"Now, Simmons, I am going to entrust you to lead this brave endeavor! Keep Donut from turning everything to lace, and make sure the walls are painted only in red!"

Simmons saluted dutifully. "Yes, sir! It's an honor!" The act of constantly obeying Sarge's every word had gotten him on the older cryptid's good side back before they even left, and it had so far made things easier. "What will you be doing while we work?"

"Sitting back and giving you ladies orders, of course! The most noble of positions to take!" Then he jabbed a thumb in the direction of the houses, just in time for Simmons to notice lightish-red feathers disappearing through one of the doorways. "Now, get to work helping Donut out before he starts making things look like my Gran's house. I'll send you and Donut to scout around once it's darker out."

Simmons nodded, starting at a quick pace towards the house Donut had already entered. Up close, the houses looked even more ominous, but the menacing feeling from before seemed to fade. They weren't really looming, and didn't feel full of eyes and danger. He could see through the dusty windows and know nobody was watching him, and the peeling paint and missing shingles made them just look flimsy. Still, he perked his antennae up a bit as he walked through the door and followed after Donut, who he could detect just up ahead inside the house. The floorboards creaked and groaned under the sudden presence of weight and movement on them after years of being undisturbed. On the inside, aside from a few things, the house was much more inhabitable than it had appeared on the inside. The walls seemed a little old and where there was wallpaper it peeled a bit, and a constant, annoying hum came from one of the light fixtures overhead when he turned it on (How did this place have electricity?). Otherwise, though, it didn't have nearly as much decay as it's exterior did.

Looking around, the house itself seemed like once it might've even had a very friendly, welcoming vibe. The first room was really just a very large hallway that continued onward to the left and right, and right in front, a large staircase led up to the second floor. There was a musky, damp smell wafting down, so Simmons decided he'd investigate later, instead opting to continue down the right side of the hallway, where he could hear Donut humming a chipper melody. Suddenly, there was the sound of metal crashing, and Donut squawking in surprise, and Simmons raced in.

"Donut? What-"

The hallway opened up into a kitchen, and sitting dazedly in the middle was Donut, partially buried under pots and pans that must have fallen from the open cabinet. As the blonde shook his head and got up, he noticed Simmons and waved awkwardly. "Oh, heeey Simmons! Sorry if I scared you there. I was just looking around when I opened this cabinet, and it's load got all over me!" He chirped, clearly oblivious of how his words had sounded. That was another tiring thing about being around Donut; the constant innuendos, most of them he never seemed to address. Scientists may never be sure if he does it intentionally or not.

Donut picked up the pots and pans, stacking them neatly back in the cupboard. "I'm glad there's still some cooking equipment in here! If the other two houses don't have it, maybe I can ask Sarge if I can claim this one! I don't mean to brag, but I was great at cooking for my family back in the old flock! People always loved it when I gave them things to stuff their m-"

"That's great, Donut." Simmons said hurriedly, avoiding the inevitable innuendo just in time. "Look, Sarge wants us to go scouting around as soon as it gets a bit darker. Just to look around the area more, and see if there's anywhere nearby where we can pick up some of the stuff we'll need in the morning."

"Great idea! I'll need some new interior design magazines if I'm gonna spruce this place up. I mean, I know lots of the common tips and tricks, but you really need to stay up-to-date on the latest trends for something this big. Like, I don't even know whether wallpaper is a forgivable offense right now or not." The blond eyed a peeling piece of wallpaper with scrutiny, then brightened again and turned back to Simmons. "So, when are we leaving? It's already kinda dark."

"I dunno. Once the sun's all the way gone?" Their eyes could stand the brightness of the sunset right now, but it still made Simmons nervous to go flying around with the sun out, even if they kept their goggles on. Mothman eyes were always much more sensitive to light- in the middle of the day, direct sunlight to your eyes for too long could be enough to blind you. Thankfully, lots of mothmen, and really any monster shopkeeper in general, sold special flight-safe goggles that kept the sun from doing any harm. They usually were red-tinted on the outside, but didn't alter the colors of anything when you looked through them. Humans would usually only see the goggles reflecting the sunlight if they spotted a mothman, so it made the depictions of them all the more hilarious. Simmons supposed that would be another good thing about being here. The tall, dense forest around the camp would probably block out most of the sunlight unless it was directly overhead. Still, Simmons never liked taking chances. He quite enjoyed having the ability to see.

"Yeah, we can go once it's properly nighttime. That gives us some extra spare time to look around this place!" Donut smiled as he closed another cabinet, nodding in satisfaction to confirm that he'd officially searched the kitchen from top to bottom. He breezed past Simmons, who shrugged and followed after him.

The rest of the house was in about the same state as the kitchen and hallway, and their exploration fell into a normal pattern. They'd both search one set area, point out certain things that interested them, and once Donut had found a broom and duster, they would do some quick work to make it look a bit cleaner for the next time they had to come in here. Upstairs, they found another medium-sized empty room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom for each; surprisingly, both with running water. The beds had also been left behind and were still in pretty good shape, which Simmons was glad for. Most nights during the trip here, they'd had to make do with leaves, moss, and most disgusting of all, the occasional motel beds, but only if the place was secluded enough that the singular desk worker wouldn't stop to notice the wing-shaped lumps under their shirts. They'd left their jackets and most other clothes back at their old flock, since they couldn't carry more than a small backpack's worth of stuff. Unfortunately, that meant that hiding their wings was much harder, although hiding their antennae just involved wearing a hat or fluffing up their hair.

Eventually, they'd covered the whole first house, and Simmons noticed it was officially dark out after peeking out of a window Donut finished dusting. Simmons was glad to finally leave the place and once again return to the world of fresh air, but Donut complained for a bit that he'd just been getting started and was upset to have to leave so soon to go scout. Eventually, though, they both quieted down, walking to the most open part of the clearing and splaying their wings. Donut lifted off first, silhouetted by the almost-full moon, and after a moment, Simmons took a running start and swooped upwards into the sky after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this is a little short!! the next chapter will most likely be longer and will be coming out a bit after this one- maybe tomorrow, at the latest.


	2. Housewarming Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donut and Simmons make a discovery while on another supply run.

The sun making it's way over the horizon drew Donut from his partially-asleep state.

After the first day, Sarge had ordered that the three of them take turns keeping watch throughout the night. This wasn't necessarily difficult or tiring, as mothmen required very little sleep to function normally, but the multiple hours on the rooftop were enough to drive anyone mad with boredom. Especially Donut, who'd been looking forward to some good beauty sleep, and instead had been stuck doing a double watch after Sarge had once again decided he didn't want to do it for that night.

Standing up and making sure his sunlight-proof goggles were secure on his face, Donut spread his wings, sliding down one side of the sloped roof before jumping off and catching the air, gliding down with ease. His small figure had made him pretty swift flier by nature, and he'd always been proud of his ability to glide around with ease where others would still be flapping their wings far behind him. As he landed on the ground again, Donut began happily strolling around the camp as the other two mothmen began to wake up inside the houses.

It'd been about a week since they'd first arrived at the campsite. Simmons and Donut had discovered a human town comprised mostly of small shops the first night, and had made frequent runs to the store ever since. Sarge had handed them a large fistful of money the day after they first made the discovery, and he still had yet to tell them how he'd obtained the supply of cash. Still, they'd decided to use it sparingly until one of them could nail down a job somewhere. They'd skipped out on shop runs the last two days to focus on making the houses more inhabitable, but today they had a pretty decently sized to-do list.

Donut fluffed out his wings again, shooting up to hover just above the window of the bedroom Simmons had been assigned to. He grabbed some sticks off the roof, then lowered himself to be level with the window and began throwing sticks with just the right amount force to make noise, but not break the window. He'd always had a strong throwing arm, after all. It was easy to underestimate his strength, sometimes.

After a moment, there was an annoyed grumble, and the window squealed as it was forced open, revealing an irritated-looking Simmons glaring at him.

"Donut, what-"

Another stick collided with Simmons' face, and the redhead squawked indignantly and stumbled back into his room. Donut yelped in surprise and swooped forward, sticking his head through the window. "Oh! Sorry, Simmons! I already had a throw ready and you startled me there."

Simmons turned back around, now even more irritated-looking. He made a face at the blonde, grumbling. "Whatever. What do you want, Donut?"

"Sarge wanted us to head out the moment my watch was over. We gotta make a run into town before midday has all the humans out and about. I even have a shopping list memorized!" He smiled brightly at the other mothman. Simmons nodded, now in normal work mode at mention of Sarge's commands and beginning to get ready at a fast pace, mumbling something about being down in a second. Donut swooped away from the window, flipping and wheeling his way down to the center of the semicircle of tall houses.

He began idly pacing around the campsite. Most were things they'd already seen before, but Donut still liked the nature, especially after being so focused on fixing up the houses the last few days. The birds provided a lovely background noise with their calls, sweeping overhead in wide arcs. He sat down and watched them flutter about until he heard the creaking hinges of a door opening and closing behind him. Donut turned his head, and Simmons waved to him, looking drowsy but clearly attempting to fight it off. The redhead made his way over to Donut, and in the bright dawn light, the red hints in his black feathers were clearly visible.

"So, what do we need to get?" He asked, adjusting his goggles so they sat better over his eyes.

"Oh! Lots of stuff, like I said. Mostly just groceries. You don't really need to come along, but I do like it more when a friend helps me out!" Through his goggles, Donut could see Simmons' eyes narrow. He wondered why Simmons was so annoyed today. Usually, he was a pretty calm guy. "Well, that, and Sarge wanted us to do it together!"

"DONUT. That's fine, I get it. Let's just head out." Simmons said through clenched teeth, taking a running start like always and swooping into the sky. Donut watched him, puzzled, then shrugged, spreading his wings and following behind his companion.

The sky was mostly bright now, though there was a dark edge to one part of the far horizon. They flew along in a calm, focused silence, and the feeling of the wind under their wings made them both visibly relax instinctively. Flying always calmed any mothman's nerves. It was just... peaceful. Donut wondered if any other monsters had something like this. _Maybe that's why werewolves howl at the moon?_ He let his brain toy with the thought until Simmons waved his hand in front of Donut's face, causing the blonde to look up and over at him. The redhead pointed downward, and after a quick nod to confirm that they both understood, Simmons angled his wings and ducked, and they both dove downwards and landed at the normal spot a few miles outside the human town.

Donut untied the lightish red coat from around his waist and tucked his wings under it, then flattened down his antennae and carefully put the flower crown back on his head in a way that held them down, finally adding a finishing touch to the effect by rustling up the fluffier part of his hair over them. Simmons hadn't done nearly as much, but was now wearing a maroon hoodie he'd brought along and black beanie. Nobody ever asked about their goggles, thankfully, so there was no need to get creative about those. He motioned for Donut to follow, and they made their way into town.

The main street they entered onto was wide and already had a good few handfuls of people going about their day, even this early in the morning. There were so many shops that there was hardly any space between their walls, save for where perpendicular streets intersected with this street. The storefronts were colorful and artsy, and every window was full of some sort of unique display. Donut had to physically restrain himself from the very tempting pull of a clothes shop with an eye-grabbing display, but sadly they had enough to buy today as is. They first made a stop at a craft store and bought a notepad, so Donut could quickly write down Simmons' part of the list. Then the two of them split off after agreeing to meet back here as soon as the crowds got too full, which was usually just before noon. No matter what, they'd leave at noon.

Most of Donut's list kept him to the center of town, buying food and enough interior design magazines to keep him inspired for a few weeks. Eventually, his hunt for the last item led him to the very edge of town. Things were calmer out here, with hardly any people, though Donut wouldn't call it a "shady" part of town. There was simply just not as many things to do out here as there was farther in. He was about to duck into the fabric store when he heard rustling from the bushes where the forest abruptly ended to make way for the street. Flaring his wings in alarm, Donut whirled and stumbled to the forest's edge. "Hello!?" He called, worry building in his chest.

"Ah, yes, good, finally someone! I was beginning to think every idiot in this town was absolutely deaf!"

Donut's heart jumped a mile high in surprise. he looked around warily, but couldn't see anyone. "Who's there? I don't see you."

"Look down, you fool!"

Donut turned his head down, and spotted a cat. Just a normal black cat, but with indigo eyes that were almost as dark as his fur. He seemed to be made out of the very shadows around him. When he noticed Donut looking at him, a unnaturally wide, toothy grin suddenly cut across his muzzle. "Myes, good, you follow directions well. Come, follow me." The voice said, and Donut now realized it was the _cat_ that was talking to him. He watched the shadowy cat turn, flicking his tail for Donut to follow, and slink away. Was... was he hallucinating? The only time he'd ever seen feral animals talk was in the case of werewolves, but he'd never heard of were _cats_. Then... could this be a shifter? But he'd never heard of shapeshifters with forms that looked so... ghostly.

The cat stuck his head back out, whiskers twitching. "Come along! We don't have all day."

"But..." Donut trailed off. The cat had already disappeared into the bushes up ahead again. Sighing, he shoved down his worry and followed the cat, eventually catching up and walking next to the feline, who continued forward dutifully. "So... who are you?"

"I am known as O'Malley. You may only call me your Dark Overlord."

".. _Right_. Well, I'm Donut. You're a shifter, right?"

"Tah. Heavens, no. Why on Earth would I rather be a cat if I could instead become a dragon, and burn my enemies to mere chicken nuggets?" The cat- O'malley- tossed his head, cackling in a laugh that sounded straight out of the mouth of a cliche TV villain. Did he practice that? 

"So then, what are-"

"Shush, we're here."

They broke through the greenery into a small grassy patch. It seemed relatively normal looking, dappled with the sunlight that filtered through the tree leaves. Because of the vicinity to the town's edge, the forest here wasn't nearly as dense as it was near Red Team camp. As a matter of fact, he could still just barely see back to the town edge where he'd been standing a few minutes ago. Definitely not a spot for abductions or murder scenes. So... why _was_ he brought here, then?

O'malley paced forward, sniffing around, then padded to a tree, turning and again flicking his tail at Donut, who obediently came near.

What he saw made him let out a noise of surprise. Leaning against the tree was a dark-haired man who looked similar to a mothman, only his wings were larger, and had the pattern of some sort of bird's wings, dappled fawn and tan. No tufted antennae stuck out of his black hair, but brown feathers lightly dotted his cheeks. He didn't wear goggles, either, but did have on glasses. This alone wasn't what startled Donut, though. It was the obvious bit mark in his right leg, still leaking blood, that made Donut recoil and start to gag. "What the fuck- what is- who-"

"My master. He collapsed here this morning. It would be quite the mess if one of those idiotic humans found him here."

"How'd you know I wasn't human?"

"I'm a familiar, dear Donut. I can detect the aura of another monster from miles away. Don't change the subject. You are going to have to help him." He said pointedly, flexing his claws and narrowing his eyes. "Or I shall bring my dark wrath upon you."

"Donut? Is that you in there?" Simmons' voice rang from the direction Donut and O'Malley had come from. They both whipped their heads around, and the feline's whiskers twitched. 

"Excellent. More fools to assist us. Call him in, pastry."

Donut eyed the cat warily, then turned his gaze back to where Simmons' voice came from. "Y-yeah, I'm in here! Can-can you come here for a second, Simmons?"

"What? Uh, why?"

"I.. there's a situation."

"Fucking Christ..." There was noises of stumbling and leaves rumbling as Simmons made his way through the forest less gracefully than Donut and O'malley had. When the redhead stumbled into the small clearing and walked over to Donut, his eyes instantly landed on O'Malley and the unconscious noirette that the cat was sitting on. "... What the fuck."

"That's what I said."

"Donut, we've been here a week and you committed murder?"

"No! This cat dragged me here."

The black cat's uncanny grin appeared on his face again. "Greetings, Cinnamon- it was Cinnamon, wasn't it?"

"Actually, it's-"

"No matter. Both of you, is your home nearby?"

Simmons exchanged a wary glance with Donut, who could only shrug in response. He turned his green gaze back to O'Malley. "... Relatively so, yes."

"Excellent! You two fools pick up Doc, and get him to whatever little _hovel_ you peasants have put together." The cat settled on... "Doc's" chest, tucking his legs under him while still looking up at them with a commanding glare. It made him look less intimidating at once, but Donut still wanted to help the guy. The two sides of his brain battled for a moment, but he finally reached a decision. He held out his arms and crouched down, getting ready to lift Doc up.

"Simmons, can you lift under his shoulders?"

"Seriously, Donut? You can't really want to-"

"Come on, he's injured, and I can't carry him alone! Can't you help a friend with his load for one second?"

Simmons narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. "... I'm gonna pretend not to hear that last part, and just help." He also crouched down, and together they lifted. Donut silently thanked his brain for remembering to bring the backpacks this time, because carrying home the groceries and Doc in his arms would have been much less easy. They remembered to fly low to not be spotted, occasionally still having to land just to catch their breath, even though O'Malley would antagonize at them all the while until they took off again. When the camp finally appeared under them, Donut felt so relieved that he wanted to just drop Doc and O'Malley right then and there. They did manage to land and lay Doc down on the ground before Donut really did collapse, though.

Sarge emerged at once from the house, eyes wide. He was instantly yelling, but they didn't hear any of what he said until he ran closer. "...Men! I know for a FACT that some random knockoff mothman and his pet cat were definitely NOT on the list I gave to Donut before his watch last night! What are you two even thinking? How much did it cost!? Simmons, I order you and Donut to go get a refund this instant!"

"Oh, shut it, you fool." O'Malley piped up.

"...He talks?"

"Is that a problem, old man? Because I assure you, you are doing much more talking than I am, and it is all very, very stupid."

"Wh- shut it!"

"I'd greatly prefer not to, if your ape brain can handle that idea."

"This is insubordination!"

"You lack the smarts for the army, so I doubt that highly."

"Uh, permission to speak, sir?" Simmons hastily interjected.

"Permission granted." Sarge grumbled, still glaring at O'Malley, who glared right back.

"The cat is just a familiar. The guy underneath is injured badly, and we found him this way and brought him back."

"So leave him there! Every man for himself!" The older man spat.

"That doesn't seem rational. If he has a familiar there's a good chance he's well-versed in witchcraft, which means he could be our healer."

"Bullhonky! He's not even a mothman!" He shot another scathing look at O'Malley, who remained unfazed and instead began swiping his tongue over the fur on his chest. Donut was a tad amused to find the familiar's tongue was still bubblegum pink, even with how sinister the rest of him usually looked.

"Sir, he looks really similar to one- his species could be a cousin of our species." Simmons' eyes brightened with an idea. "If you decided to let him stay, and he turned out to be willing to be our medic, it'd definitely be a great example of your decision making skills as a leader, sir."

Sarge grumbled over this for a moment, and Donut knew Simmons had won before Sarge even turned back around to them. "Men! I've just had an amazing idea. This possibly-a-witch can stay here and have his leg fixed up by us, using one of the first aid kits we bought. When he wakes up, he'll have to join us as our medic in return!"

"Great idea, sir!" Simmons said in his classic kiss-ass tone with a nod of approval.

"You fools are all insufferable." O'Malley grumbled from where he was currently loafing on Doc's chest and had momentarily paused in cleaning his shoulder fur. His tongue still was sticking out, which only further ruined his previous air of intimidation.

"Simmons, take him to Donut's house for the meantime. Donut, you'll be in charge of him. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Donut saluted, helping Simmons once again pick up Doc and shakily haul him inside Donut's house. They both got him settled, and Donut began fixing up Doc's leg best he could with their first aid kit's limited supplies.

* * *

The moon was almost full overhead. Dark shapes slinked through the night, moving as one singular entity. Their paws were noiseless as they stepped on the forest floor. Their bodies were one with the darkness, save for their eyes, which pierced through the shadows and glowed faintly.

They stalked ahead. Occasionally, the leader of the trio would halt, lift his head, and scent the air with perked ears while his two companions copied his movements exactly, tensed and ready for any sort of threat. Then, their leader would make a low, dismissive sound, and return to creeping through the undergrowth, while his two packmates did the same obediently.

They moved as one. They were an unstoppable force, a menace of the forest, a danger not to be taken lightly-

"CHURCH! Church! I smell a thing!"

The largest wolf in the far back lifted his head, jaw parted in a wide, goofy grin while his tongue lolled to one side, panting excitedly. The leader, a thinner, short-furred wolf, whipped around sharply, growling.

"For God's SAKE, Caboose, I told you to fucking keep _quiet_!"

"I know..." The wolf drooped for a moment, only to brighten up again. "BUT! I smell a thing! And you told me to tell you when I smell a thing!"

"Caboose, we're specifically tracking that bird fuck that stole all our shit last night. So unless you smell that, shut your fucking muzzle!" Church snarled, whirling back around. "This would go so much faster if you'd stop losing your shit each time we crossed a squirrel trail. You're way too fucking loud for us to have any stealth at all"

"But.. but I smell a bird!" Caboose bounded forward, his right ear flopping forward into his face.

"We've smelled birds all fucking night, Caboose. It's a forest." 

"No, wait." The one wolf who'd stayed quiet so far spoke up, striding forward next to Church. "Dude, I never thought I'd say this, but I think Caboose might be on to something. Sniff the trail better."

All three went quiet as they focused on the scents that drifted on the breeze. Slowly, Church locked onto the only recent smell of bird, beginning to pick it apart. Sure enough, it wasn't exactly... birdy. Not the normal way. It was owl scent, but mixed with human scent, and more importantly, the distinct scent... of dry blood. Church remembered with a flicker of pride how he'd leapt forward in fully feral form like he was in right now, and dug his sharp fangs into the leg of the asshole who'd crammed all their food in his pockets and taken off last night. The fuckface had managed to get away, even with the injured leg and wing, but they knew he hadn't gone far. They'd scented him on the edge of their territory when they'd first started patrol tonight.

He turned to the other wolf beside him, and met his gaze knowingly. "Tucker."

"It's him." The wolf grinned, fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Yep. It's weird, though. The trail gets super strong in one area, then fades, then reappears again in another area. And... it's mixed with some other guys' scents, too." Church was the best tracker out of their small pack of three, so it was his job automatically to try to unpack what they were smelling. "Feathery, but in that same weird way that his scent is."

"More birdbrains like him?"

"No, no, it's uh... it's more, like... _buggy_."

" 'Buggy?' Really?"

"Well, I dunno how the fuck else to describe it! It's like his smell, but not! Don't fucking police me, asshole!"

Caboose piped up from the back. "Uh, yes, now you are being loud too."

"Shut up, Caboose!" Both werewolves turned and barked at him, before turning back to each other. Tucker smirked again. "So, you're positive it's him?"

"Positive. And if not, there's still guys on our turf."

"Then what the fuck are we waiting for? Let's go!" Tucker's eyes blazed in the night, and the moon reflected off his fangs again. All three of them raised their hackles, howling, and then Church whirled around and surged forward into the night after the scent, his two packmates close behind him. They triumphantly yipped and howled as they charged through the forest, hidden in the veil of darkness once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a long one! but, HOO! lots to write out! this was a very fun chapter. donut POV, writing o'malley lines, writing an exchange between o'malley and sarge (which is very very fun), and finally a kinda-sorta blue team reveal! dont worry, theyll eventually get their own pov chapter, but the first few povs are centered in red team. also, i believe this chapter is longer than chapter 1! if not, i apologize! im used to writing ~1k-word fic chapters, so trying to write longer chapters is a bit tricky right now.  
> please excuse any mistakes in this chapter, since i stayed up past 1am to finish this up. once i started, i couldnt stop, and now the only source of light in my room is my laptop screen. oops.
> 
> also, bonus fact: werewolf calls can be both wolf noises, and coyote noises! sometimes other canine calls too, but those are the most common ones, and they do mostly coyote yips in this chapter when they start their chase. google coyote pack calls if you happen to somehow live in an area devoid of coyote packs yipping at 3am.
> 
> alrighty, thats all for now! hope you guys enjoyed! <3


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